


My Only Guiding Light

by Bright_Boisterous_Bananas



Category: I Am Legend (2007), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, WALL-E (2008)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Damerey Endgame, Eventual Smut, F/M, Figuring Things Out, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Healing, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I Am Legend AU, Libraries, Multi Chapter, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Smut, You'll see what I mean, Zombies, damereycreations, damereycreations week, elements of Wall-E, eventual canoodling, eventual violence (i'll keep it brief), healthy love, more like darkseekers, slowburn, well deserved canoodles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Boisterous_Bananas/pseuds/Bright_Boisterous_Bananas
Summary: Zombie Au, I Am Legend AU (derived from), and Elements of Wall-E. (You’ll see what I mean)The world is quiet and Rey doesn’t know how it became so. Waking up alone, in the middle of a ruined city, with no memories has gnawed at her for nine years. The only thing she can recall is her name.Rey.Just Rey.She has skills she can’t explain, but they prove useful for her life of solitude.Rey waits on the dock, at noon, for an hour, every day, but no one comes.She chose noon because the “Cranks” don’t like the sunlight.The questions that gnaw at her heart, day after day, night after night, might just be answered with the arrival of a man who has a funny way of asking for food and shelter.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rey
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	My Only Guiding Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [duchessofthemoonbase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchessofthemoonbase/gifts), [onceupon_longago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceupon_longago/gifts).



> For DamereyCreations Week Day 5, Prompt: Amnesia
> 
> This is dedicated to [Duchessofthemoonbase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchessofthemoonbase) and [Onceupon_Longago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceupon_longago), because when this idea was hatched, you both gave me ideas that I hope to include! Thank you from the bottom of my heart!
> 
> This will likely be one of my next multi-chapter pics after I finish I’ll Sing Once More.
> 
> No warnings necessary for this chapter!
> 
> Enjoy! <3

“ _If you can hear this then it means you’re not alone. It’s the year 2030...Or at least I think it is. My name is Rey, and I will be on the dock in the city of Portland, every day, at noon, for an hour. I promise it’s safe, they don’t like the sunlight...the Cranks. That’s what I call them. Please, if you can hear this, come find me.”_

She updates the message every 12 months, changing the year, just in case. A day turns into a week, turns into a month, and then a year and then nine years. No one comes to the dock. 

The world is quiet.

* * *

“Eat your vegetables.” Rey points to the plate. 

The stained basketball sits quietly in the chair next to her, on a stack of books.

“Come on, Finn, big day ahead, eat your vegetables, please.”

But Finn just grins back through a sloppy smile, drawn with a sharpie. A light breeze lifts the wig made of stained yarn that Rey made for him.

Rey sighs, returning to her own plate of canned food. She doesn't know where she got the name Finn from, it just felt right. She made him about five years ago. When things became unbearably lonely, and she needed a friend. She talks to him during meals or when she’s tinkering with a project. It helps her keep her language skills. Funny how a person can forget words if they never use them. 

* * *

Dressing for the day, Rey pulls on her tattered overalls, and stained white tee. All her clothes are ‘borrowed’ as she likes to say, from the wreckages of houses. She only had her clothes on her back when she arrived, which quickly became ragged in the harsh conditions.

She hums, brushing her hair with a broken comb in front of a splintered mirror, before grabbing her pack and heading out of the small house into the sun, noting the time of the expected sunset, from a book, on her hand, before she leaves.

“Goodbye Finn! See you this afternoon!” She calls behind her.

* * *

A spring breeze lifts Rey’s short waves, she smiles, leaning her head back into the sun as she winds her way through the trees to the path that will lead her to the city.

The sound of her work boots on the soft earth shifts to clop clop on cracked pavement as the city comes into view. 

Sky scrapers, once twinkling in glory, now sit, parched and broken in the dry wind. The streets are not longer recognizable, covered in trash, pieces of fallen architecture, or grown over with weeds and moss. Low hanging vines drape an eerie roof over head. Sometimes Rey hears a bird in the distance, or a single call of a gull. The wildlife is considerably less than it was a few years ago. Rey knows what is responsible for that.

The morning is spent scavenging for anything useful or edible. Rey digs through piles of rubble, sometimes gleefully, sometimes jabbing angrily with shovel.

Today’s finds: a hoodie with what looks like a carrot design on it, in remarkably good condition, one lightbulb--a rare find--a rusted toaster and a can of what she thinks is corned-beef-hash, based on what’s left of the label.

Next, it’s off to the library, or what remains of it. Thankfully, many stacks still stand, though the windows have been blown in and part of the roof is missing. It’s musty inside and a bit moldy in spots, but it’s the one place that still resembles its former glory.

“Hey Rose!” Rey waves cheerily as she slides her books on to the counter. 

On the opposite side of the desk, stands a mannequin, the paint of the face is chipped and faded but Rey did her best to detail pleasant features with lovely eyelashes. She dressed it in a red skirt with a black tee--both ripped and stained--and a jean jacket. Rose is always stationed at the library to greet Rey. 

“I loved ‘Great Expectations’, that Miss Havisham is a real bitch.” Rey snorts and giggles behind her hand. “I think I’m going to do a Harry Potter re-read next”.

And with that, she takes off into the moldy stacks to select her books. She knows exactly where to find her chosen titles. She grabs all seven tomes and then skips back to the front.

“See you tomorrow!” Rey calls back to Rose as she moves towards the exit.

There’s a rustle in the corner, Rey whips around, but it’s just a bird, ruffling the leaves of a vine by the broken window.

* * *

At noon, Rey sits on the dock, it’s usually only one hour but it always feels like five. She turns on her radio receiver, and sketches while she listens to the static. Her recording is playing on a loop, on a different frequency, from a nearby antennae that she constructed all by herself.

She doesn't know how she knew how to make the antennae, or connect it to the radio box inside the small ruins of the building beneath. She doesn’t know how she knew to record and play her message on loop, She just did it. She can’t remember anything from before she woke up, alone, in the city, nine years ago. 

The only piece of knowledge from her past is her name. Rey. Just Rey. 

* * *

The afternoon is spent canning food for winter from the garden. Then it’s laundry, by hand, making dinner, which is always simple, using the minimal and damaged cookware over a hot plate. She has a generator to create minimal power for essentials. She built it herself. Again, she isn’t sure how she got these skills.

Rey always reads before bed and then slides the metal shutters closed over each window, protecting her small house, the one that she found, nine years ago, surprisingly mostly intact, just far enough from the city where the Cranks won’t venture.

Distant wailing and gnashing is heard from the city as Rey curls into her blankets. The Cranks come awake at night and roam the ruins for living food.

The haunting cries carry all the way to her window, through the steel barrier. She sings quietly until sleep comes. It’s the same song every night. She doesn’t know how she knows the words, they just come to her, like a distant dream, washed in shadow and mystery. _“_ _Well I know I had it all on the line. But don't just sit with folded hands and become blind.”_

She pauses, shuddering at the cries beyond. Taking a shaking breath, she realizes she’s crying. 

_“Cause even when there is no star in sight, you’ll always be my only guiding light.”_

Sometimes the words make her sad, sometimes they fill her with hope. But every night, she is keenly aware of her solitude in this quiet world.

* * *

With the rise of the Sun, Rey takes heart; A new day, a new hope. She follows her familiar routines, breakfast with Finn, dressing in her overalls and collecting her pack before heading out the door.

Her mood never fails to lighten at the sight of the Sun. It gives her hope that someday, somehow, she will find answers to the questions that bore into her heart, day after day, night after night.

She clops along in her work boots, to the center of the city, where the rubble is the deepest. Hoping to find food or scraps of useful things to add to her collection.

Upon rounding a corner, she freezes. The sight before her is confusing, confounding and very suspicious.

“Rose?” Her voice shakes.

Rose doesn’t answer. In fact, Rose is not where she should be. 

“Shouldn’t you be in the library?” Fear evident in Rey’s voice.

The mannequin is very still, her sweet lashes are unmoving, as she stands, perched atop some rubble next to what looks like...three cans of food.

A million questions collide in Rey’s mind. Why is Rose here? Why is there food? And most importantly, how did she get here?

Hot tears betray Rey’s eyes as she wonders at her own sanity. “Rose, are you real?” Rey sobs softly, confusion making her head reel.

Rey half expects the figure to move but it doesn’t. The cans of food look so inviting, her stomach turns over. 

“Please! Rose! Answer me!” Rey cries. 

Rose’s skirt flutters softly in the breeze and Rey wishes she were real. Her heart flays at the thought of a real friend, a real person to talk to. The need so deep it dredges up strong and muddy emotions.

“Damn it Rose! You answer me right now!” She yells, charging forward to take the food.

Surging at the cans, Rey trips over something invisible and lands at Rose’s feet. There’s a snapping sound from somewhere nearby followed by a rushing or a dragging. Suddenly, a net made of scraps of rope and shreds of clothing is rising from the ground. It had been concealed in the rubble around Rose.

Rey is plucked from the ground with the mannequin; screeching, she dangles in the air.

“No, No, No! God! No!” She screams; her voice is hoarse from disuse.

Rose is silent next to her as they slowly rotate through the air. Rey struggles to no avail. Fear is careening through her. How did this happen? _Who_ did this? Or worse, _What_ did this?

“I’m sorry, I had to!” A strange voice breaks through her panic.

Rey falls silent, whipping around, trying to find the source of the sound. It was a human voice. The first voice she’s heard in nine years and is it her imagination or did it _not_ sound threatening--Rey shoves that thought away, surely she imagined it. Her struggle with the net resumes.

“Who are you? Let me go!” She screams; Her heart is jumping up and pounding in her eyeballs.

Through the tangle of rope she sees a figure step out of the shadows from under an overhang of a roof.

“I need your help.” He says calmly, looking up, meeting her eyes.

Rey feels her eyes widen involuntarily. Before her is a human. A Man. _Man._ A human being made of living flesh and bones. He is bare chested, with tan skin. Brown curls glisten in the Sun and sweat from his brow, sticking to his forehead. He’s wearing weathered black pants, and boots, not unlike hers, but caked with mud.

Rey’s heart sputters. That’s weird. But she shakes it off, she’s had close calls with the Cranks trying to trick her before. 

“You’re one of the Cranks! Let me go! She screams again, helplessly clawing at the net that binds her.

“One of Who? Those rotting things? No, Ma’am, I’m not.” He holds up his hands in surrender.

Lies. Rey tells herself.

Rey sucks in a sharp sob, she was letting herself hope again. Hope that she wouldn’t be alone in the world after all. 

She turns her head away, crying bitterly. This is how she will end, she’s been caught at last.

“Please, ma’am. I haven’t had anything to eat in three days.” His voice isn’t coarse, like the Cranks. “I know you have food, I’ve seen you walk through the city day after day--”

“You’ve been following me!”

“No--I--I haven’t!” He protests, offended. “Well yes actually, but not in a creepy way!” 

“And, _You have food!_ What do you need _me_ for?” Rey bellows, pointing at the cans on the ground.

The man’s face contorts with guilt, and he shuffles one of his boots against the ground. “Uh...They’re...empty…” He tips the cans over with his toe as evidence and winces for a rebuff.

“Ugh!” Rey covers her face with her hands. “This isn’t how I want to die.” She blubbers into her hands, defeated. 

The net continues to rotate so the man walks with it, to keep Rey in view.

“You _must_ have a shelter. Please, can you help me!” There is sincerity in his voice. “I woke up in the street alone, seven days ago. I thought I was the only human alive, until I found you.”

His voice breaks and _are those tears?_ His words hit her deep and she pauses in her grief. _He woke up alone in the street._

Same as her.

Still, he could be lying. Any moment now, he’ll cut down the net and then attack her,

Rey scans the ground for any debris that could be weaponized. Just below, and slightly to the side she spies a rusted frying pan.

_That’ll work!_

Rey’s been quiet for more than a minute. Down below, the man grows impatient.

“Hey, you still with me?” He calls up to her, wiping his eyes. “If I cut you down, can I stay with you? I haven’t found any other people. I think we’re all that’s left.” There’s desperation in his voice.

He’s asking for food and shelter? Maybe he’s not a Crank. Though, early-term, they look more normal at first. But his skin is smooth, unbroken. Rey’s eyes lock onto his carved muscles and moist skin.

_Get. It.Together. Rey._

“Not a chance! You’re a Crank!” She replies sharply.

“Ma’am, if I were, would I be standing in the sunlight? He argues.

That’s a good point. The Cranks don’t like the Sun. Still, they’ve tricked her before. She tightens her fists; she will stick with her original plan.

“Fine.” She says, drying her face. “You can stay with me.”

The man whoops and hurries to cut her down. He grabs a small rusted knife and saws at the rope until the net comes crashing down to earth.

The crushing landing sends heavy pain spiking through her body, but thankfully she isn't injured.

“Ugh.” Rey groans. 

Sitting up as quickly as she can, her vision blurs but she crawls to the frying pan, grasping the handle behind her.

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” The man beams with a blinding smile as he approaches Rey. “I’m Poe.” He leans down, extending his hand to help her up.

With a mighty wack, metal meets skull, and Poe is unconscious, sprawled atop the rubble.

“Hmph!” Rey sighs, wielding the pan, twirling it lightly. 

Tossing the pan aside, she kneels next to Poe. Her eyes rake him for any signs of the infection.

He has none.

If he _were_ a Crank, His veins would run dark, visible through translucent skin covered in open decaying wounds. But his skin is smooth and soft to touch when she lightly brushes his forehead.

She gasps softly, retracting her hand. Carefully, she lifts one of his eyelids. His eyes appear normal; no red tendrils of inflammation. He’s not infected after all.

He was telling the truth.

“I’m sorry.” There’s a knot growing Rey’s throat. “I didn’t believe you.”

Soft sobs overcome her, she hangs her head in her hands. What to do? She could take him back to her hideout. Or she could leave him here, and hopefully he would wake before sunset and find shelter.

Guilt stabs her. She wrings her hands in a fit of fear. He _did_ capture her, but he meant no harm by it, so he says. Seeing another human for the first time definitely made her feel different than she thought it would. She’s Afraid, curious, angry. 

She can fend for herself and she needs no help, that’s how it’s always been. It’s always been just her. Who does this man think he is to come barging into her life demanding the basic necessities of survival. 

Poe’s words drift up into her mind: _I woke up, in the street, alone, seven days ago._

The fact that she had arrived in _exactly the same way_ as her pulls at her heart strings and her decision is made. 

She fashions a cot from beams and rags and hauls his form onto the stretcher.

Rey remembers feeling alone, and nothing but despair during her first days and months. Plus, he might know information, for which she's been starved. She’s been dying to know how it all started; how the world went quiet.

* * *

Corned-beef-hash seemingly never goes bad. It smells amazing as Rey is cooking it on the hot plate. The sun is setting, and slanting through the kitchen window. Her guest is starting to stir, from the nearby couch.

“Ugh.” Poe moans. His hand comes to rest on the welt at his brow. “What the?” He mumbles as his visions blurs before coming into focus. “You hit me.” He says it like he’s just arrived at a surprising and offensive realization. He tries to sit up but groans, clutching his head.

“Easy.” Rey says, coming to his side. She presses him back into the weathered couch, quickly retracting her hands from his shoulders. She doesn’t like the way her heart fluttered at his smooth skin. “And your welcome: I could have left you there to be taken by the Cranks.” She adds crisply kneeling next to him. She checks his pulse for a moment and swiftly pulls her fingers away, again.

“Am I supposed to be grateful for this?” He gestures weakly to the welt on his head.

“Am I supposed to be okay with how you kidnapped me?” She retorts with a glare.

He opens his mouth but closes it again, biting down on his lips to keep from blurting out a cutting remark. “Okay that’s fair.” His sighs in defeat, as his eyes drift far away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have--” He gestures with his hands to mime ‘capturing’ Rey with the net. “I suppose I could’ve just talked to you instead.” He meets her eyes. His tone is genuine.

Rey’s heart swoops but she shakes it off. “It’s ok, I would have behaved feral either way.” She huffs a laugh at herself.

They exchange a small smile and then Poe’s eyes wander to his surroundings. The house is cozy with minimal furniture that Rey collected or built herself. The kitchen table has mix-matching legs and chairs. Some of the floor boards are busted and the green wallpaper is stained and hanging off in great swaths. 

It’s a one floor house, with one bedroom, and an open kitchen and living room. There is a spare room that serves as a workshop. The bathroom isn’t functional--no running water--but it serves as storage for Rey’s collection of useful items.

Spices hang from the ceiling in the kitchen. Candles and make shift lanterns are spread at intervals throughout the house, which Rey will be lighting soon, since the Sun is almost gone.

“Is this your Home?” Poe asks with a quiet wonder in his eyes.

Rey nods and returns to the hot plate, turning it off and spreading the corned beef hash onto two plates.

“I like it.” His smile is warm.

Rey’s heart squeezes, but she’s still feeling cautious about this stranger. She doesn't know anything about this man. Taking the two plates, she places them on the table and retrieves her found frying pan, from earlier, to place it beside her seat, just in case.

“Hungry?” She asks, her mouth feels dry. She’s never had anyone join her for a meal and she suddenly feels inadequate to host with her chipped plates and mangled or rusted flatware.

“Starving!” Poe beams, as he sits up he groans.

“Take it slow.” Rey hesitates for a whole minute while he struggles to stand before she comes to his side to help him up.

She makes a mental note to let him borrow one of her shirts. The presence of his bare chest is annoying and distracting. Seating him at the head and she takes the chair next to him. He waits patiently for her to be seated before he begins to eat. 

After helping Poe, she calmly scoops a few forkfuls of food from her plate onto Finn’s plate, across from her, as she always does. She catches Poe staring and her face heats. He must think her a fool to be offering food to a basketball.

But his face is curious and kind, not judgmental. “Hello there.” He smiles politely at the sharpie face, and gives a small wave. “What’s your name?”

“This is Finn.” Rey blushes, looking down at her plate, bracing herself for ridicule.

Poe smiles warmly, “Pleased to meet you, Finn.”

Rey’s heart flutters at his kindness, though she still eyes the frying pan next to her chair. She finds she’s nervous, uncertain of how ‘sharing a meal’ is supposed to look. The man before her is a complete stranger and yet he’s kind, even to her make-believe friend.

The breath in her lungs is shallow, and she can’t figure out why Poe hasn’t started eating yet. She slowly picks up her twisted fork to load it with food, and it’s then she realizes he was waiting for _her_ to start eating before he does. She doesn’t understand the feeling that gives her, but it makes her feel special and more nervous.

She uses her fork to scoop up mouthfuls of food while Poe uses a warped spoon. Poe digs in with a ferocious hunger. They eat in silence.

She was hungrier than she thought, it’s rare she finds a can of food with protein. It tastes heavenly and she is unaware of the sounds she’s making. Beside her Poe is eating faster than she is, if that’s possible. 

They slow as their stomachs fill, and the horrific emaciated feeling subsides. He downs the cup of water Rey set for him with great gulping noises. While he’s catching his breath he meets her eyes with a boyish grin as he wipes his mouth on his hand.

“I don’t know your name.” His tone is curious and not accusatory as his head tilts to the side.

“Rey.” She feels so small but his returning smile is kind and she ducks her head.

“Thank you for the meal, Rey.” He says with sincerity.

She likes the way her name sounds when someone else says it; and she wonders how long it’s been since she’s heard her name spoken. 

“And you too, Finn.” Poe reaches over to pat the basketball on the head.

As soon as his fingers rest on the mop of yarn Rey gasps. Alarms sound in her body. What is he doing? Why is he touching Finn? Does he mean harm? Without thinking she grips the frying pan, and with a fearsome wack Poe is unconscious. Again.

“Nobody touches Finn!” Rey cries and then gasps in shock at her own actions, as Poe’s body hits the floor. “Shit! I’m sorry!”

* * *

Poe’s eyes begin to peel open to see the candles and lanterns twinkling, casting a warm glow about the room.

“Ugh.” Poe moans, waking slowly to a dull hammering in his skull. “Can you please lay off with the frying pan?”

“I’m sorry.” She’s dabbing his forehead with a wet rag as he lies on the couch. “I didn’t know how to react when you touched my friend.” She looks down, her lip quivering.

Poe studies her quietly for a moment, as she shifts her weight and takes a seat on the floor next to him. His face softens. “It’s been a while since you’ve interacted with people, hasn’t it?” His voice is gentle.

She nods, and there’s a knot throbbing in her throat and she suddenly feels like hiding.

“How long?” He asks softly.

She looks anywhere but his eyes. “...I don’t have any memories of people.”

“None?” He rolls on his shoulder to face her as his eyebrows come together.

“I woke up alone, in the street, nine years ago.” She answers bitterly, not meeting his eyes, and she can taste bile at the soreness of the memory.

“I’m sorry.” He reaches for her hand.

She gasps, pulling it from his reach. His fingers felt warm but it was a foreign feeling and it makes her afraid. She has no memories of being touched either.

“I’m sorry.” He says again, retracting his hand slowly. “I--I won’t touch you again.” His eyes are concerned and voice is so soft and reassuring.

“I’m not used to it.” She replies weakly, at a loss of what to do. Poe nods in understanding and her hands are wringing themselves. She hates that she can’t gage what behaviors are safe to receive or give.

Distant howls and wails rise up from the city; the Sun has set and the Cranks are waking up. Poe’s head snaps up at the sound, whereas Rey is more used to the haunting cries.

“It’s safe here.” Rey reassures Poe as his eyes widen at the piercing cries. “They don’t venture this far from the city.”

Poe relaxes a little, resting his head back against the ragged pillow. After a moment of silence he asks. “What was that word? That you called them?”

“Cranks.”

He chuckles lightly at the word. Rey’s heart lifts but it’s a strange feeling for her; she hesitates between a worried and amused expression.

“Is it because they’re _cranky_?” Poe a grin is spreading on his lips.

“Yeah.” She breathes and she likes the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. It sounds so bright and happy. Rey can’t remember the last time she heard a laugh like that. She’s pleased at the way he can make light of something so dark.

After a moment, he sobers and his expression is serious but in a curious way. “Why are we the only ones left? Where did the Cranks come from?”

“I was hoping _you_ knew.” Her stomach turns over. She’d be lying if she said she hasn’t been dying to know.

“I don’t have any memories from before a week ago.” Poe’s eyes look far away. “I’m sorry.”

Rey’s stomach sinks to the floor and plummets to the center of the Earth. The _one_ human she finds and he doesn’t know anything useful.

“You don’t remember anything?” She presses. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Just my name.”

Something is tightening in her chest and she doesn’t like it. She wants to be alone to think. Having another human in the house has been rattling enough and she’s reached her saturation point for new and scary experiences for the day.

“I think I need to get some sleep.” She says as she stands. “We can talk more in the morning, Kay?”

“Kay.” He smiles kindly and with a hint of sadness.

She fetches him one of her big t-shirts and a pair of baggy sweatpants; all her clothes are stained or ripped but Poe is only grateful and pays no heed to the derelict condition of the items.

She brings him a few extra blankets--moth eaten--and he happily accepts the couch as his bed. She gestures to where the outhouse is, just in the yard, should he need to relieve himself. 

He thanks her politely for her kindness and then she blows out all the candles except one, which she leaves next to Poe as he makes up the couch and climbs in.

“Thank you.” He says meeting her eyes. “For today.”

“Your welcome.” She answers weakly before she takes her own candle to her room.

Her bedroom is her safe place. No other human has ever set foot in it. Not even Finn. There’s a small bed in the corner by the window. The mattress is a found furniture piece, from her early days, albeit stained and lumpy in spots. The bed frame she built with wood scraps from the rubble. Her pillowcase is made from a sweatshirt she discovered with an illustration of a duck on it. Her blanket is simple, brown and in good condition. 

The walls are painted with scenes from her imagination; fantasies of a different world with magic and mythical creatures. She didn’t have any paint, when she first found the house, so she used wild berries as pigment and her fingers as the brushes. 

Aside from a scrappy handmade dresser and minimal possessions upon it, the room is bare, Rey likes it that way.

Changing into her pajamas--a ripped brown tee and grey pants with one leg longer than the other--she Rey slumps into bed, exhausted from all the excitement of the day. But sleep doesn’t come.

She tosses and turns for what feels like hours. There’s another _person_ in her house. She can hardly believe it. Her emotions won’t settle: she’s scared and happy and worried and hopeful. A person. A _real_ person. 

Anger makes an appearance too. How could Poe not remember anything from before he arrived? He ought to try harder. She deserves answers. She’s angry at the lost time, the years of solitude without knowing how she got here or why she is here. She’s angry for being robbed of human companionship for so long. 

She grips her hair and outside her window, far away, the Cranks wail and gnash at the moon, mocking the sounds that her heart makes.

She doesn’t realize that she’s crying. Great sobs rack her form and she tries to calm her breathing but she can’t. After several minutes of sobbing, she hears footsteps outside her door. Poe doesn’t knock, but he enters slowly, carefully, so as not to cause alarm.

“Rey?” He asks gently. “Are you ok?” He comes to sit on the side of her bed.

His presence makes her heart skip beats and she wishes he would leave, it's so confusing and upsetting. She thought she would be happy to have another person around.

She sits up and curls her knees into her chest and leans her back against the wall. Her head falls onto her knees as she cries, “Please, go away. I need to think.” She wishes her tone didn’t sound so angry.

“I know you’re scared.” He says, as he places his candle on the dresser near her bed. “I am too.”

She chances a glance at him and his eyes are warm and concerned.

“Do you want a hug?” He asks softly.

Rey is quiet for a minute, trying to remember what a hug is; she’s read about them but she’s never experienced one--or at least she can’t remember if she has or not.

“Okay.” She whimpers.

He climbs up onto the bed next to her and places one hand on her shoulder, gently. She gasps and shrinks from his touch, jerking slightly.

“It’s okay.” He raises his hands in surrender, his tone is still so soft. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Rey nods and closes her eyes, bracing herself. His arms come around her back and her knees, guiding her close to him. Her head lands gently on his shoulder, and strong hands rub her back.

The feeling is so warm and so safe and it draws a fresh string of tears to her eyes. She sobs against his shoulder, she’s never felt a person hold her and it’s comforting and she realizes she’s been starved for the feeling.

“You’re not alone anymore.” He whispers, resting his head on hers. “We can be alone together.” 

Rey can’t answer, her emotions are too strong as the tears persist in urgent waves. They stay like that for what could be minutes or hours. Outside her window, the Cranks fill the night with haunting calls; but inside, for the first time, she doesn’t feel alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3


End file.
